The Ambassador's Family
by RaymondHope
Summary: A story of how the S'chn T'gai Clan learns to live following Va'Pak, The Immeasurable Loss. Centers around our favorite Ambassador- Sarek of Vulcan and his son, Spock. A story of love, grief, forgiveness, and family. Goes back and forth across Sarek's life, sometimes through Spock's eyes, to see how he ended up the way he did.
1. The Memorial

It was an unusually bright and sunny day. The weather was, for humans, pleasantly cool. Spock found it to be distressing. It was illogical to be bothered by the weather as it was out of one's control, but he could not tamp down his restlessness. He turned his head to look at his father sitting next to him. Sarek stared straight ahead with no expression on his face. More often than not, Spock had taken that to mean he was unaffected.

"_You are not capable of feeling. Do not claim to understand my anger at the council."_

"_Spock-"_

"_Whatever it is you wish to say, I do not wish to hear it. You were more concerned about my supposed dishonor of the Vulcan way than the insult to mother!"_

"_That is not true-"_

"_Is it not? You do not care about mother the way she cares for you!"_

"_Spock!"_

"_You do not deny it." _

"_Will you listen to me?" _

"_I am going to Earth to join Starfleet. Live Long and Prosper… Father."_

The next time Spock saw his father was almost a year later, when he had come to hand deliver a last letter from his grandfather Skon, just two weeks before his death. So many times, he had disregarded the knowledge that Vulcans had emotions deep inside them. With respect to his father, Spock had operated under the belief that as a proper Vulcan, Sarek had buried his own emotional responses so deep that they may as well not exist. In accordance to that belief, he had rarely given any consideration to how his words or actions might hurt Sarek. To him, that notion was simply impossible. Moreover, he had also thought that Sarek was incapable of feeling any love. Throughout the years of his adolescence he had harbored the conviction that though his father held him in high regard and was concerned about him the way a father should be, he would never love him the way his mother did.

How mistaken he had been. He knew better now. His father, his Vulcan father, the Ambassador of Vulcan, the prime example of a true Vulcan, had married his mother not because it was logical for him to do so in order to gain a better understanding of humans, but because he had loved her. Clearly, he had had a child with her for the same reason.

Truth be told, subconsciously he had always known. He had made a conscious choice to disregard it. After all, had he not seen his father leave all work and rush home whenever his mother would be distressed by something? Or agree to requests that were blatantly illogical by Vulcan standards but not by human? Had he never used the crook of his father's neck and shoulder as a pillow whenever he was ill? Was it not Sarek who held his small hands and taught him how to use computers, play the Ka'athyra and even guide him through the basics of suus mahna?

He discretely nudged Sarek's boot with his own to get his attention. His father calmly turned his gaze over to him.

"Forgive me Sa-mekh." Sarek's eyes widened by approximately 7.2%.

"Spock, there is nothing to forgive. Your attempt to save your mother was commendable. Do not blame yourself for her untimely demise. She would not wish it and neither do I. We shall speak of this at length afterwards."

He shook his head, "I am apologizing for not being a good son to you."

"When did I ever state that you were not a good son?" Sarek looked mildly horrified at the mere notion.

"Never."

Sarek frowned at him. "We will speak at length. There is much to discuss. But not right now. Pay your respects my son." With that gentle yet firm instruction, Sarek turned his attention back to the service. Amanda Grayson's memorial service.

An empty casket was being lowered into the ground; the gravestone would be all that marked what should be her resting place. Her body had been lost just as Vulcan had, and thus this empty casket and slab of rock with her name would have to suffice. Sitting there, Spock felt as empty as the casket. He did not wish to think about his mother or T'Khasi, or anything even remotely related to any of this. He did not know what he wanted, but he was restless and could not calm himself. His mother was gone forever, how would he find his center without her to guide him?

There were so many things he had not shared with her. Had Nero never come seeking revenge, he would be meeting his parents for dinner in an Indian restaurant in Sausalito three days from today. He would be formally introducing them to Nyota. His mother had guessed that he was involved in a romantic relationship, but he had kept the details hidden from her, and she had not pried. He had implied that he was concerned about father's reaction, but his mother had assured him that Sarek would be fine with anything he did as long as it was not illegal or harmful to anyone. He had not believed her. He had also never told her that he loved her. He had implied it, made it known through is actions, but had never verbally said it. He should have said it. Just as he should held onto her hand after coming out of the Katric Arc. He had not done either of those things and now she was gone forever.

There was a hand wrapping itself around his wrist. He looked down and saw his father's hand attempting to coax his fist to unclench. He had not realized that his nails were digging into his palms. He took a deep breath and released his fists. His father's hand remained on his wrist. He refused to look up at Sarek's face. He instead focused on the crescents formed on his palms, and the scars on his father's knuckles. Scars that were faded and old and looked as if they were obtained when Sarek had thrown his fist into some hard surface breaking the skin. Scrapes as one would call them. He touched the ones on the middle knuckle with the index finger of his free hand. His father's grip tightened for one-eighth of a second before relaxing. He did not remove his hand, and Spock spent a good five minutes studying the scars, calluses, emerging wrinkles and prominent veins on his father's hand. Then he slowly extricated his wrist and turned his father's hand palm up. There was a deep scar running diagonally along the palm. He traced it. It was obtained by a sharp object, and the shape of the scar indicated that the manner was most likely that someone had swung a small blade, possibly a large one, at Sarek and he had attempted to block it with his hand. There was a faint discoloration on the third finger in the shape of a band…Sarek's wedding ring. Spock felt ill. The hand turned and clasped his fingers. A sense of calm washed over him. There seemed to be something hidden behind the serenity, but it was locked away for now. Spock let go of his father's hand and decided to pay attention. His mother deserved that from him. The hand gave his knee two light pats and then withdrew.

His mother's only sister, Rebecca and her husband Harold had been the ones to organize the memorial. They were the only ones he was close to from his human side. From his Vulcan side, only T'Pau survived. She was seated next to Sarek and had yet to notice his distraction, or so he presumed without evidence to the contrary. His human cousins, Lester who was four years older than him, and Rissa who was six years older, were also present. The last time he had seen them was on Christmas two years ago. He had not attended the family get-together last year as his father had unexpectedly taken ill and mother had elected to remain with him on Vulcan. Spock had spent the time with Nyota.

He turned his head to look at where the command crew from the Enterprise was seated. He had told Nyota and Chekov about the memorial, and unexpectedly, Scotty, Dr. McCoy, helmsmen Sulu and Jim Kirk had asked if they could come to pay their respects. He had no reason to say no, and Sa-mekh had been uninterested in who he invited from Starfleet. Captain Pike had sent his condolences. As had Ambassador Spock.

He had not yet revealed to anyone about the existence of his counterpart. Not even to his father. His elder-self had made it clear that he intended to assist in the rebuilding of Vulcan, but had not said anything about whether he would reveal himself to the public or not. Thus, he was uncertain on how to proceed in the matter. Just as he was uncertain as to whether he wanted to continue his career with Starfleet alongside Nyota or leave everything he had built for himself and help re-build his race alongside his father. His elder self had suggested he do the former, even though he owed a greater duty to do the latter.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to clear his mind as best as he could at the moment. As mother would say, he would have to cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, he ought to listen to what his aunt was saying.

"You are distracted Spock-kam."

"I do not intend disrespect-"

"I know. Which is why I desire to know the cause of your restlessness and if there is anything I or anyone else present here can do to assist. It is unlike you to be so preoccupied."

How quickly he had assumed his father's concern to be a scolding. How many times had they misunderstood each other so? Often enough for his mother to call them both 'pig-headed', he supposed.

"I do not know. I shall spend more time in meditation afterwards."

Sarek merely inclined his head.

Despite Spock's best efforts the memorial was not likely to stand out in his memory. _Regrettable. _This was a public memorial, for all those friends, acquaintances and colleagues who wanted to pay their respects. The family had already had their own personal memorial the night before.

"_Sarek, you want to say something?" his aunt asked. Spock stared at the ground while standing next to his father._

"_Only that I am grateful for the time we spent together, and the memories we made. I shall cherish them always." Sarek paused. He swallowed once and cleared his throat. "I am also grateful for the family I have left, especially this one." He gestured to Spock._

"_Because you shall see her in my eyes?"_

_Silence. _Why_ had he said that? Illogical. He swallowed and lifted his head to look at others. Lester was giving him a raised eyebrow, Rissa mildly glared at him, while his aunt and uncle seemed confused…but they were looking at Sarek. He turned to his father. He seemed amused?_

"_Because you are the child we made together. It is true you have her eyes, but you also have my ears."_

_What? He had more than just his father's ears- they shared the same green blood, blood group, telepathic abilities, bone density and organ placement, scientific aptitude- and why were his human relatives laughing? Even T'Pau looked … not disapproving. Was this what was called an inside joke among his family? Why did he not know it?_

As Sarek later revealed, upon his birth, the first features his father had noticed were his eyes, while mother had noticed his ears. It was how they ended up describing him to his relatives in the message they sent announcing his birth. _A healthy baby boy with his mother's eyes and his father's ears. _Surely there were better ways to describe a new born child?

"Listen, Spock, I'm really sorry for the way things ended up… and what I said on the bridge." Jim Kirk looked decidedly uncomfortable. According to his elder counterpart, theirs was to be a friendship that would define them both in ways they could not yet understand. He was curious about that.

"The fault was not yours. I understand you did not mean it." Should he reveal it…Kirk had already met with him, "I have met him as well."

Confusion, comprehension, surprise, worry, flashed across his face in quick succession. "You… you did? But didn't… how?" Confusion again.

"He did not state anything concrete. He merely implied. You made the conclusion."

Incomprehension. Dawning realization. Awe. Annoyance. "Why that… wait till I meet him again." It was quite interesting to observe so many emotions displayed in such a short period of time.

"What are you two talking about?" came an annoyed growl from the good doctor.

"Nothing important, Bones. We'll talk later, Spock."

He nodded. The doctor just shook his head. "How's your dad?"

"Physically, he is well."

"Good to hear."

The doctor was quite instrumental in ensuring that Sarek's continued physical well-being. Due to the broken marriage bond, he had collapsed the moment he stepped off the transport pad. Though he had regained consciousness within ten minutes of reaching the med-bay, the broken bond was only temporarily blocked by his mental shields. After revealing his true emotions to Spock, Sarek had left and gone to T'Pau to have it dissolved. Unfortunately, as T'Pau attempted to dissolve the remains, the psychological pain caused Sarek's heartbeat to fluctuate in a manner reminiscent of a cardiac arrest. Thinking he was attempting self-murder from grief, T'Pau held onto his katra while another assisting elder rushed to the bridge to tell him his father was dying. The doctor had accompanied him to his father's allotted quarters, and had proven to be much more useful than Spock. He was quick to determine that it was excessive stress that caused Sarek physical pain. While he kept Sarek's body, especially his heart, stable, T'Pau took care of his mind. All Spock had done was stand there at the foot of father's bed and struggle with the realization that for all their disagreements, he could not bear the thought of him dying.

A light shove on his shoulder. Lester. "Care to introduce us to your friends?"

"Lay off him Les." Spock was surprised to see his sister standing with Nyota, with an arm around her.

"They are my crewmates, not friends." Something flashed in Nyota's eyes but was gone too quickly for him to analyze it. He began the introductions. After the introductions, his aunt and uncle approached them.

"So, kids, I see you're all catching up." His uncle Harold, though gregarious by nature, was appropriately somber.

"We are hardly kids."

Aunt Rebecca gave him an indulgent smile, "That's true kiddo. You're all grown up now." He could hear suppressed laughter from behind. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"Spock," he spun on his heel to see his clan matriarch and great aunt, T'Pau, "Go to your father." She walked away. The group comprising of his crewmates and human relatives collectively turned to look at Sarek. He was standing alone with his hands folded in the small of his back in front of the gravestone.

"Let's all go inside, the father and son can join us in a while, hmm Spock?"

He nodded to his aunt and strode towards Sarek. They had much to discuss, though he was not sure how to begin. He stood next to his father and gazed at the gravestone. In Vuhlkansu, there was only word written. _Beloved._ It was written in his father's hand.

"Her name should be on the gravestone, not only an endearment." He sounded harsher than he intended to.

"It is her name."

He turned to look at Sarek. "Her name was Latin in origin, an old Terran language from which modern-day Standard English originated from. It translated to, beloved. I always found it fitting. Just as I find today's weather fitting for her memorial. She smiled at such little provocation, often without any other reason than simply being alive and with those she loved. It is sentimental of me to think so, but…she lit up the world with her presence, so why shouldn't the weather be bright and clear in her memory?"

Spock looked once again at the gravestone and then at the clear sky. He turned to Sarek again and saw something he had not once expected to see. A lone tear. His mind became silent. His father was crying. For his mother. And here he was, the son who could not shed a tear for the woman who gave birth to him and raised him. The son who once accused his father of not caring for her, while now it was he, who felt nothing but emptiness. Sarek closed his eyes and brushed aside the tear. He took a deep breath and turned to look at him.

Spock could not hold his gaze, he lowered his head. Sarek stepped closer. Though Spock was 3.8 centimeters taller, his father gave the impression of being larger. Sarek's hand brushed through his hair once and came to rest on the base of his neck. "Give me some time for meditation, and then we shall speak. Is that agreeable to you?"

He was staring at the Clan symbols woven into the cloak Sarek was wearing. He grasped the long lapel and held onto the cloth tightly. Sarek used his other hand to tilt Spock's chin up. "Do you prefer to speak now?" Spock's grip tightened. "You did not strike me."

Sarek openly frowned. His hand remained on Spock's neck, steadying him. "Elaborate."

"Before I left for Starfleet, I accused you of not being capable of feeling, of not caring for mother as she cared for you. I was blatantly disrespectful. I struck Kirk when he said the same to me, but you never struck me."

"If you are asking me if I was angered when you said those words, then the answer is no. The anger came weeks after you had left. You are not being fair to yourself by comparing our situations. When you lost control, you were already struggling with your anger and pain at the devastation. Kirk had deliberately provoked you. That was not how it was in my instance. You were merely expressing your own distress, not deliberately attempting to wound me. And part of what you had said was true. I did not care for Amanda as she cared for me. Her manner was human, whereas mine was Vulcan. It was different though not in the way you presumed at that time. Moreover," Sarek paused, "I had already struck one son in anger, and lost him. I could not hurt another I loved."

Spock leaned forward and rested his head on Sarek's shoulder. The hand remained on his neck, while his own twisted in the cloth. He felt as if he was a small child again, when he had not yet learnt of the Vulcan way and Sarek was still openly indulgent to his illogical whims. A time when he spent his days either hiding behind his mother's skirts or perching himself on I-Chaya, and turning Sarek's chest into his personal mattress at night. He had rarely thought about those times, the memories repressed as he grew older and learnt of logic and control. Yet now, they seemed as clear as the sky. He longed to return to those days when Vulcan and Human were just words, and the most devastating thing that could happen was that Sarek would go on a diplomatic mission without them and not return for days or his mother would make him eat some Terran or Vulcan vegetable that tasted horrible.

'_Ah yes, such simple times they were. Your mother often longed for them as well.'_

'_Have you melded with me or are my shields too weak?'_

_A wave of amusement, tinged with affection and a shadow of surprise. 'The parental bond I share with you is still strong my child, you have not kept the door closed for quite some time now. I had pulled over a curtain to preserve your privacy and my own. You were not aware?'_

_Annoyance and shame at his lack of control, quickly brushed aside by a serenity not his own. 'The cause is sufficient.'_

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He realized that Sarek's free hand was gripped tightly in his own, and the fingertips were beginning to turn purple due to lack of blood circulation. He immediately let go and took a step backward from Sarek.

"Shall we go inside? I believe that you should rest."

He nodded. They silently walked alongside to the Grayson family cottage which was only used when the family had to come together for any occasion whether tragic or joyous. He pretended to not notice Sarek flexing his hand.


	2. Contemplating Conversations

Jim hadn't expected to be allowed to come to Spock's mother's memorial. Not after what he said, even though he hadn't meant a single word of it. He had felt the intense grief and desolation the elder Spock had been feeling in that cave of Delta Vega. He really had deserved that beating.

What surprised him was the fact that Spock wasn't holding it against him in any way. Or his dad for that matter. Who knew the pointy eared bastard was the son of a high-profile Federation Ambassador who could kill him and get away with it because of diplomatic immunity? And T'Pau, the only one who had ever refused a seat on the Federation Council, was his… what, grandmother? If he hadn't lost his whole planet, Jim might have felt jealous of the guy. He grew-up rich, well-connected, and with loving parents. It was the life Jim had always wanted.

He looked around the common area of the cottage. If it could be called that. It was simply too big to be just a cottage. There was just the enterprise crew and Spock's family in the room. Everyone else had left. The mood was somber and was grating a bit on Jim's nerves. He wasn't used to this dignified mourning silence. It reminded him too much to those few Kelvin attack memorials he had attended when he was younger.

"Hello Captain." Damn. Uhura was still pissed at him. Only she could say captain respectfully and still make it sound like an insult.

"The field promotion hasn't been made official yet. Lieutenant." Two could play at that game.

"Are you two done behaving like children?" When had Bones snuck up behind him?

"Not yet. I know your first name is Nyota."

"You don't have permission to use it. But then again, when has that stopped you?"

"Never. And I didn't mean anything I said to your boyfriend. You know that, right?"

"I do. But I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

"I have apologized to him. He says he forgives me."

Before Uhura could say anything else, Spock's cousin Lester showed up with a tray of refreshments. "Sorry to interrupt, but Mom wants everyone hydrated." He looked over Jim's shoulder and called out, "Uncle Sarek, Spock, come join us."

Jim turned around while sipping a glass of iced tea. Spock was by the door, being helped out of the heavy Vulcan cloak he was wearing by his dad. Sarek glanced at Spock before nodding to Lester. He started removing his own cloak while Spock came over to them.

"I hope my brother has not been…annoying you."

"I'm an annoyance now?"

"It is not a recent development."

Lester muttered something about smart-ass little brothers, Bones chocked on his drink, Uhura's lips twitched and Jim barked out a laugh.

That had been the wrong thing to do.

"Often times the behaviors of humans confounds me, despite my close association with them on a regular basis. However, I was not aware that memorials to honor the departed induced laughter."

Ambassador Sarek was well-known across the Federation as an expert negotiator and formidable debater. He was also an imposing man, both physically and psychology. And right now, Jim was pretty sure he was only alive because Spock had stepped in between him and his father.

"I had informed Lester that him being an annoyance to other humans was not a recent occurrence, which prompted amusement to all parties witness to the conversation. The disrespect was not intentional, and the cause was my words."

Sarek blinked at his son. He then stared at him for five seconds. Finally, he rolled his eyes upward and walked away to join his sister in law and her husband.

Jim decided now was an appropriate time to resume breathing.

* * *

Sarek's opinion regarding Kirk was conflicted. First, he illegally came aboard the ship his son was commanding, behaved disrespectfully, and then deliberately made Spock lose his control. Then he took over command, and alongside his son, saved his wife's home planet, which was also, his home by marriage.

He should, he supposed be grateful to him that he had saved Earth. However, as a father, Sarek's first focus was his son. And Kirk had hurt Spock. His child had already been in pain, and Kirk had, metaphorically speaking, rubbed salt on his wounds. Sarek could not forgive him for that. While it was true that Spock had gone against his Vulcan upbringing and had violently assaulted another sentient being, Sarek could not hold that against him as the cause had been sufficient. What truly confused him was that Spock seemed to have forgiven Kirk for it all. He had even stepped in front of him and claimed responsibility for Kirk's inappropriate laughter. Clearly something had passed between the two, something that seemed to have changed Spock's opinion of Kirk significantly.

He and Spock needed to sit down and speak with each other. They both had too many questions for each other. More than questions, they needed to re-acquaint themselves. It had been so long since they'd spoken as father and son, largely due to his own incompetence as a parent.

It was never difficult to gauge Spock's emotional state. His eyes were simply too expressive. What was truly difficult was responding correctly to it. He remembered the look in his eyes throughout his years. When a toddler, it was always a look of endless curiously and uncontained joy at recognition. The look of curiosity remained as he grew older, but was soon joined by a multitude of emotions- admiration and gratitude when Sarek filled the gaps in his knowledge, anger and pain when anyone insulted him or his parents, either defiance or contrition when Sarek scolded him, pride and adoration when Amanda praised him, and contentment when he basked in their intimate moments as a family.

That day on the _Enterprise_, what Sarek saw greatly troubled him. When they beamed aboard and it became clear that Amanda was lost, he saw a look of complete shock and incomprehension. While the comprehension dawned on his son as he stepped off the transportation pad, Sarek himself, regrettably collapsed. When he awoke in the medical bay after shielding his mind more firmly, he saw Spock sitting on one of the beds with a dazed look on his eyes. As if the events had been too much for him to process. It was understandable, numbness from shock was the only reason he was able to get out of bed and approach T'Pol and Mordo, fellow members of the High Council. Mordo helped him strengthen his shields enough for him to fully focus on his surroundings, but by then, Spock had left and gone to the bridge. When he first came on the bridge, Spock was distracted, and trying to behave normally in what were anything but normal circumstances. He had just begun to relax (relatively), when Kirk beamed aboard. (How did he do that while they were warp anyway? Perhaps Spock had found the answer.) He saw frustration and a sort of desperate look. And then, Kirk pushed him over the edge.

"_You never loved her!"_

Though it was said to Spock, Sarek felt as if he was the one being taunted. They had been married for over thirty years, and had known each other for five more before that. And yet, he had never once told her he loved her. She knew, she had felt it whenever they shared their minds. Amanda's mother had once told him, that though her daughter knew how he felt, she deserved to hear him say it. He had never understood it, until that moment on the bridge. It had taken him a minute to focus back on his surroundings. It had been Spock's murderous rage seeping in through their bond that pulled him out of his own misery. In the same manner, he called to his child, the gentle boy who loved and was loved. And when Spock turned to him, he looked… ashamed… defeated… _broken._

In the transporter room, Sarek truly did not know what he should do. So, he did what came to mind. He asked Spock to speak freely and hoped to take some hint on how to proceed further. Spock was angry at the rogue Romulan. An anger that Sarek understood completely. He told his son what his mother would have told him in such a situation. But it was not enough. He could see it. More importantly, he could hear his beloved's voice, giving him council as she always did. _You need to open up to truly connect with him. He's your son, be honest with him. _Along with it, came a voice of logic. _It is illogical to deny what is the truth. _And so, he truthfully answered the first question his child had posed about his father's choices.

Spock was surprised, but then, he saw clearly in his eyes, understanding. He looked as if all the pieces of the great puzzle of life had fallen into place. No more was said, but for Spock, something had clearly been resolved.

Yet, when he saw him next, standing at the foot of his bed while T'Pau soothed his mind and the ship's doctor kept telling him to 'hang in there', Spock looked… lost.

It had been seventeen days since _that day_, but only eight since they had found their way back to Earth. (Detonating a warp core, how had the ship stayed in one piece and in working condition at that?). Since then, Spock was either taking care of matters at Starfleet Academy and the Headquarters, or waiting for him at the Ambassador's penthouse at the embassy to finish his work. There were so many urgent tasks to complete, Sarek had been largely too busy to do anything but ask him if he had eaten or not. The answer was always in negative.

His sister by marriage brought him out his contemplations.

"What do plan on doing now?"

"Specify."

"The Vulcan population, what will you people do now?"

"The ones who left Vulcan and came to this planet, are now temporary refugees, while the Vulcan race as a whole has been classified as an endangered species. The remaining three colonies have been contacted, and messages have been sent out to all Vulcans who were off planet. The remaining members of the Diplomatic corps on all our embassies and consulate offices are currently compiling a list of all known survivors, and once everyone is taken into account, we will leave and rendezvous with select members of the colonies at an as of now undecided location in the Alpha Quadrant. From there we shall proceed to a suitable planet to colonize permanently as our new homeworld. The remaining members of the Space Exploration Division of our Science Ministry are in the process of selecting a planet. All other matters, especially intergalactic relations and trade have been put on hold for the time being."

Harold was staring at him, "You did all that in a week? And who's doing what? How are you managing Sarek?"

"Thanks to Spock's efforts, five members of the Ruling High Council survived and were aboard the _Enterprise._ Once the threat of Nero was eliminated, we came together to discuss our next course of action and divided the work amongst ourselves. Execution of our plan was all that needed to be done upon our arrival at Earth. The planet may be gone, but the people remain as does the Council. T'Pau, our Head of State, is handling all dealings with the Federation Council, Lady T'Pol who was our Defense Minister and has now taken on the additional mandate of Security, is dealing with the logistics and security matters. Vanir, our Minister of Science, is commanding the remains of our Fleet and overseeing the search of a suitable planet, while our Minister of Health, Mordo, is tending to the immediate needs of our remaining people. As the Minister for Trade and Head of our Diplomatic corps, I have the task of contacting and gathering the people, as well coordinating with T'Pol regards to logistics, assisting Mordo with the Terran authorities and also T'Pau in dealing with the rest of the Federation. My corps and Vanir's exploration Fleet survived mostly intact due to being away from Vulcan Space. We have lost most of the senior members, but the manpower is sufficient for now."

Rebecca patted his forearm in a human gesture of support. "You have a lot on your plate. Try not to bite off more than you can chew."

He was familiar with those figures of speech. "I am doing what I can, just as everyone else." He took in Rebecca's concerned expression. Amanda looked very much alike her sister. "I thank you for taking the time to prepare for-" his voice caught. He cleared his throat.

She held up a hand, "Don't mention it. We're family, and no matter what happens, we'll be there if you need anything."

He slightly bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"Speaking of family, what's Spock going to do?", if Sarek was at times perplexed by Spock, Harold was completely lost.

"We have not yet spoken about his plans, but the logical course of action would be to resign his commission and join me in rebuilding our race."

The moment Sarek said aloud those words, he felt as though they were meaningless. He turned to look at his son, and glimpsed him just before he stepped out into the garden with the communications officer, he had introduced him to.

"Well, whatever his plans, just be there for him. It's what Amanda would have wanted. You two were the be all and end all of the universe for her."

He turned to his sister by marriage. "I know. I will keep my promises to her."

Promises he had made when Spock was born, and she had decided to confront her mortality in the face of the new life they had bought into the world. The most important one which he had repeated to himself in private, was that he would be a good father to Spock. He had tried to fulfill it, but had ultimately failed.

For a time, he had kept it, their relationship was composed of nothing but adoration for each other. They were inseparable. Then, they discovered that he was not Sarek's firstborn. Their home was joined by another. Slowly and steadily, the life he had built, came undone, and by his own hand no less.

"_I hate you!" _

His jaw clenched. _Kaiidth. _It did not matter. Now, he had the opportunity to rectify his mistakes. Spock not only needed him, but desired whatever comfort he could provide. Amanda was no longer here, but he was, and his son was all that mattered on a personal level.

* * *

Spock led Nyota outside into the back garden to speak with her privately. He kissed her gently once he was sure no one would see them. After they broke the kiss, he wondered if he should reveal their relationship to his family. Jim Kirk and Mr. Scott already knew, and he was fairly certain the doctor was suspicious as well. He would tell Sarek. Eventually. Right now, he needed her expertise on communications.

"I require your assistance in a matter of personal nature."

She smiled at him. "Whatever you need."

He took a deep breath and thought how to best phrase his question. "How should one communicate with a parent so as to minimize chances of conflict and achieve optimum satisfaction from the exchange while also furthering a mutually fulfilling relationship?"

She blinked. "First, answer me this. Why can't you talk to him like you do with me?"

He felt uneasy, "We have a tendency to misunderstand each other. I have never given consideration to his -" he almost said feelings, but stopped himself. Sarek was a Vulcan, and at the very least, outwardly kept his emotions hidden away. He would not appreciate the implication that they were closer to the surface, in any way. "I have never considered how my words or actions might affect him and only focused on how he may respond to what I say. My primary focus has always been to avoid his displeasure."

"Uh-huh. And just how many times did you actually face his displeasure?"

He thought for a moment. Even when chiding him for something, Sarek would always end the conversation on an encouraging note, either with advice or wisdom, or by voicing his confidence in his abilities. The only times Sarek had been truly angry at him would be when he would run off into the desert in a fit of temper or when he was openly disrespectful.

"Admittedly not that often, and rarely was it severe. However, the possibility was always there, though I am beginning to wonder if it was justified."

"I can't say I blame you for that. Your dad does have this dignified air about him… like he's some sort of emperor and you can't help but bow down before him. Kirk looked like he was about to have a heart attack back there."

He hesitated for a fraction of a second and then whispered, "Mother said that in appearance, he is the very definition of august, but in reality, is the model of humility."

Nyota gave him a sympathetic smile. "You're not too bad yourself, Spock."

They gazed at each other a while longer. She was the first to break the silence.

"About Sarek, does he focus on what you're saying or something else? Is he diplomat and negotiator even at home or just a normal person?"

He thought about it. When he was younger, Sarek would always visibly set aside everything he was doing and give Spock his entire attention. He was clear and detailed in his speech, but avoided overt emotional tones, though he did address him as 'my son' or at times, 'little one'. He was quite capable of jesting, and Spock suspected that he understood figures of speech rather well though he would respond to them literally. Additionally, he had a tendency to retreat into silence whenever the conversation concerned what his mother called 'matters of the heart'. He relayed his observations to Nyota.

She had a knowing smile on her face. Or was the expression that of smugness?

"You're supposed to be telling me about Sarek's style of speech, not your own."

"I am-" he stopped. He was his father's son, far more than he ever cared to admit.

"Talk to him freely, as if you were speaking to yourself. Just don't close yourself off to him while you talk okay? And if he starts to close off then call him out on it. Remember, communication happens to go both ways so you both need to put in the effort. That's the only way to have a proper conversation with someone you care about. Being honest and completely open. Being vulnerable in other terms."

There seemed to be some subtext involved in her words, but at the moment he could not decipher it. "Is there something you would like to say to me?"

"A reminder actually. I'm here if you need me."

He inclined his head to her, "Understood."

They turned in unison to go inside. He was ready to speak with his father. Little did he know, his plans would be derailed quite soon.


End file.
